


Probable Cause

by CheshireCaine



Category: Bleach, Sleeping Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, First Meetings, Flirting, Horny, Led by the libido, M/M, Police, Pre-Slash, Requited Thirst, Sexual Tension, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 06:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCaine/pseuds/CheshireCaine
Summary: “Anything for someone as pretty as you, Officer,” Isshin purred. “Tell me first. When do you get off shift?”





	Probable Cause

“Police!”

Isshin saw the flashing lights climbing up the alley wall opposite and made a judgement. He was pedalling up a ledge and clambering onto a roof as the lights gave way to human shadows. Feet kicked out ahead of him as he slid into a flat—lucky he’d completed the mobster look with comfy trainers—dropping apologies as he pushed past a woman—and lucky the more that police-issue loafers were impractical as high fuck.

He dove out the window, following his contact. Grabbing the suitcase off him wasn’t his goal, but clinging to the man and maybe outrunning him was good odds. Especially since—leaped across to a building under construction and sprinted barely impeded by the jump—he hadn’t exactly done a rooftop run in the area. He figured the officers were closing in, if only because sheer laziness would make most of them reluctant to follow on foot when a pincer formation was less reactionary.

Isshin fell through a roof, landing in a pile of glass but getting to his feet with barely an indignity suffered, he thought. Well. It was okay because his contact had fallen harder and looked more whiplashed about it than Isshin was pretending.

Damn, some of the officers were catching u—Shit, he needed to pull his weight more. He was getting fucking shot at!

Vaulted over crates and crap as they crossed the docks. He really wasn’t paid enough for this.

“You are under arrest!” Like the fifth megaphone time was the charm.

Shit, he fell through another roof. He was blaming his contact for stomping so hard on everything they passed if he got his hands on him. Dove through the window and turned a corner, dragging himself through the air and scrambling up a crate.

_Click!_

“You are under arrest.” It was a pretty bespectacled police officer with grey hair and a grimace like glaring was his other weapon.

Isshin’s place in society dictated he scrabble around and spit in the man’s face but that frown—“Am I?”—sent a twinge straight to his cock.

“Put your hands up.”

Huh, the uniform fit the man well, tight in the right places over his legs and shoulders.

“Anything for someone as pretty as you, _Officer_ ,” he purred. “Tell me first. When do you get off shift?”

“Too late for someone spending the next few years incarcerated.”

Isshin chortled. “I’m sure I’ll have five minutes in a locked room with no camera before I get thrown in. Though if you’re a fan of cameras, I’d be willing to make allowances, if you can add on another ten minutes.”

“I  _said_ , put your hands. Up.”

Isshin cracked his neck, dappled with water, not breaking eye contact. He lifted his hands up to weave his fingers behind his head and rolling his shoulders to show off their size and strain his t-shirt over his chest.

The police officer’s eyes flicked over him as he moved, Isshin grinned at his success. “Like what you see,  _Officer_? Promise you could see more if you admitted it.”

Even in the dark and dreary, Isshin grinned at the dapples of red sported by the smaller man. He widened his stance a little. The officer’s eyes trailed down.

“Isshin. Shiba Isshin. But you can call me whatever you’d like. All I ask for in exchange is one name for two of mine.”

One of the contact’s incompetent guards had caught up—Isshin could’ve sworn he’d taken a different route—in pursuit by two officers. He was trying to descend to the ground, the idiot. One of the policemen raised his gun.

“Duck!” Isshin grabbed Pretty Boy and slammed him to the ground.

Bullets ricocheted over their heads, pinging off containers and girders. The officer’s bottom half was squirming; Isshin pressed flatter, clamping his legs around his thighs, tighter till he stopped.

The ringing was over and Isshin pulled him back up, holding him close so he could look over shoulder for a fifth check. He let go.

“Sorry about that. I believe in no over the clothes grinding till after dinner. Maybe in the car home.”

He stalled for time, while he looked around for his gun. “Ryuuken. Ryuuken’s my name.”

Found it.

“Cute. Suits you. I hope date two isn’t so far away.”

“For under the clothes rubbing?” Ryuuken swung around, re-armed.

Isshin groaned. “God, I swear cops aren’t meant to be this hot.”

Ryuuken walked around the corner—Isshin was gone. Ryuuken tipped his head down to hide his dazed look, under the guise of fixing his glasses. He pressed the heel of his hand into his crotch until he hissed with pleasure.

Something fell over in the distance and reddened his skin. He wouldn’t catch Isshin now—biting his lip—but Isshin had definitely caught his misdemeanour.


End file.
